


Edge

by Davechicken



Series: Kylux - Dom Hux, sub Kylo [7]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: BDSM, Breathplay, Edgeplay, Kylux - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 07:50:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7566058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hux knows how to make people let go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Edge

Kylo was nervous. It was kind of the point, but it didn’t detract from the fact that he was. It was the kind of nerves that you felt all the way through your body. His tongue felt like it had expanded thrice, and thrice again: like every bit of space behind his teeth was occupied by fat and sluggish muscle, lounging like a stranded sea creature on a salty beach. His whole skull tingled - inside the _bone_ \- deep in the marrow - like tiny pinpricks of Force lightning that chased over old fissures and cracks in calcium-white. His hands were swollen, too: clumsy and incapable of the task (quite literally) in hand.

 _Remove the helmet._ That was the first order. (No pun intended, though inside his head the bitter laughter just echoed on infinitely, never seeming to wax or wane.) Here, in the command suite. Just behind them, beyond the doors, was the bridge. The ship was designed to be soundproofed from one room to the next (he knew from schematics and from experience), but that didn’t mean there couldn’t be - well. Flaws? There could be. If the doors hadn’t sealed correctly behind him, the troops out on the deck would be able to hear.

If it hadn’t been locked - and he had no idea if it had or not - one of them could _come in_.

Remove the helmet. Just a simple command, but it was the _location_ that made it mean more. _Anyone could walk in and see them._ Could walk in and see **him**.

It had been hard enough getting used to his face bare for the General. This… it was…

“Ren. I am a busy man. If you are not prepared to co-operate, I shall–”  


“No.” Damnit. Why did his voice sound so unsure when he said that? It reverberated around his skull, bouncing off plasteel and echoing on forever. No, no, no, no, no.  


“No?” The General folded his arms across his chest, a sliver of human between glove and sleeve. “Is that how you should talk to me?”  


_Yes it fucking is you’re just a jumped up calculator, not even a real soldier, you push bits of data around instead of get your hands dirty. You don’t even have the Force. You’re just_ **weak** _and_ **useless** _and_ **you don’t know real power**.

The tirade came through on one channel inside, the fever-fast response of nerves. He felt it swell inside of him, felt it batter at his ribs like a bird caged and wanting to get _out_.

He didn’t really think those things. Or - not fully. Not any more.

He knew the man too well to think that was a true assessment, though he knew the words would wound like they were real.

Kylo did not apologise. Kylo, instead, reached his hands up to the helmet circling his face. Fingers around the curve of it, and his thumbs pushed the release catches. It parted away from him, a mechanical sigh as it opened, and he felt the ship’s recycled air on his hot cheeks. His lashes brushed them, unable to lift his gaze, not yet. Not yet.

“You’re going to need to learn your place, Ren.”  


The voice dripped scorn and disgust, and Kylo wasn’t… it wasn’t how Hux always spoke to him. It wasn’t as if the General was all hugs and rainbows with him, but he’d kept the loathing and disgust toned to a lower level for so long that hearing it again, like they were… like they weren’t lovers…

It was part of this. This… whatever it was. Hux had decided they needed _more_ , and Kylo had agreed (when did he not?). The helmet stayed in one hand, and he felt his hair about his face, felt furious fire under his eyes.

“Yes, Sir.”  


The honorific slipped out automatically. Used for a superior. Hux wasn’t - not in the military sense - but _he was all the same_. His fingers pressed harder into the helmet, trying to ground himself. He felt like he might float away from the sudden bubble of hysteria that expanded deep inside of him.

Hux was. Hux was calm. Hux was sure. Hux’s emotion turned into a honed blade, not a messy spurt like his own. Hux could control himself, and… could control Kylo, to. Even when Kylo tried to stop him, to prove a point, or because he didn’t (sort of) feel like being controlled. That was why he was owed the title: because he’d earned it.

Kylo swayed, and waited for the next order. It did not come fast, and the earlier statement about being a busy man stung, now. He was too busy to wait for Kylo to get into line, but he wasn’t too busy to make him stand and–?

Of course, the moment he lifted his head and eyes, Hux stared him down. Sure blue eyes met petulance, and Kylo knew he either had to back down, or stand his ground. He could bow, bend, break… but there was that genuine flare of annoyance inside that demanded reparations. If he pretended it wasn’t there, it would come out later, and it would make everything sour until it was gone.

He knew. He knew, because they’d done this enough, now. Until the swelling pride and self-importance were doused out, he would be a miserable, angry thing. He didn’t like the way anger felt inside of him unless it was needed for power. Unless it was needed for strength in battle, and this was _not a battle he needed to win_.

“Put it down, and kneel behind it.”  


_Make me_ , Kylo’s eyes shot back. He sucked in his lower lip, the challenge and defiance dancing over the tip.

“Ren. Do you think I will ask you twice for everything? If you are so keen on behaving like a child, I shall treat you like one.”  


“What, send me away to be a Jedi?”  


The slap to his cheek came as a surprise, because he always took care not to trespass inside Hux’s head. It was an instinctual show of respect, and so the first he knew of it was when he saw the gloved black move, and felt the fingers hit in almost perfect unison against his cheek. It stung, but lightly, and it was more the shock of it than anything else.

His survival mode kicked in, his right hand coming up to retaliate… only to grab blindly when a knee came up between his legs, the cap impacting with his groin and making him bend in shock. He had a handful of shirt and was about to attempt to retaliate properly when something heavy and metal clamped around his neck.

 _The fucker put a collar on him?_ That was his first thought. Then: _What… what?_

The metal clamped into place and everything felt… wrong. Far away. He held on tighter to the bunched up shirt, and looked up in confusion.

“Until you learn to behave, you’re going to be punished, Ren.”  


“What did you do to me?”  


He tried to stand back, but there was a hand in his hair all of a sudden, keeping him bent down slightly, tugging so sharply that his eyes stung. Hux slipped a padlock into the two raised parts of the metal band, locking it onto his neck. 

“I just took away your Force ability. You don’t get to have it back until you learn your lesson.”  


Kylo recoiled, hands moving to claw at the wrist near his hair, needing to get away. It felt like the world had been drained of colour, all of a sudden. He didn’t - he couldn’t get his balance, couldn’t get his head to stop swimming. The pain kept him somewhat in the moment, or else he might have drifted entirely from the world. Bright, vibrant, and the only thing that felt _real_. “Let me go,” he whispered.

“Manners.”  


Kylo’s eyes pricked without warning, a sudden flare of feeling that was overwhelming in its viscerality. The only things that were in focus were the sensation in his gut (emotion) and the pain in his head (agony). He looked up, from under messy black locks, finding Hux’s face. His expression was utterly unreadable, inscrutable in the extreme. Normally he’d be able to feel around the edges of his emotional response for a reassuring flicker, but right now all he could see were the lines of his face, the set of his jaw, the tiny twitch of a muscle at the side of his mouth. His eyes were steely, and Kylo wavered on his feet.

“…Sir.” He said it, without thinking, hindbrain respecting that control that he didn’t have. He could feel the anger and need to puff up going, but in its wake was something else, something entirely different.  


He still felt emotional, but he didn’t feel the need to push Hux from his spot. 

Hux knew. Hux knew… that Kylo didn’t crave it. Not the same way he did, anyway. He’d risen as high and far and fast as he had… but not because it made him feel good to do so. He’d done it because he thought he was safer if he was here. If he was the Leader’s most trusted, the strongest and the most powerful. If the other Knights bowed to his will, if the only one above him was the one he knew he couldn’t unseat. If he did… if he did what Snoke wanted.

Kylo had no real desire to unseat Snoke, except to get his attention off him. But that would lead to a power vacuum, and one he would only fill because of air being sucked out, not because he craved that dias and throne. 

Hux liked power. Hux liked authority. Hux liked control. 

Kylo… did not.

The hand in his hair moved, pushing him to his knees. Kylo went, and when he hit the floor, he put his hands out to the side. Just to the side of his waist, palms up, wrists exposed in supplication. He didn’t want to fight for the top spot, not really. 

They both knew it.

“Better,” Hux purred, allowing some affection into his tone.  


Kylo… Kylo lapped it up. The praise - even a single word - heady like the smell of the ground in a storm, like the sharpness in the air. 

He no longer felt the need to punch Hux, but he definitely wasn’t in safe waters, not yet. He was… bouncing, still. Bouncing on the internal tides, the bumping up-down feeling that was like being in a ship banking too hard. Without a feel for the room around him, his own bodily reactions and emotional responses were amplified. He could hear the slight gurgle of his gut working over his last meal, could feel the gaps in his field of vision which would normally be covered over by his preternatural other senses. The giddy sense of possibility was like just before you opened a gift: not sure if it would please, or disappoint. Not sure if you’d have to fake a smile, or rein in your enthusiasm. 

Kylo swayed slightly on his knees, and the hand in his hair let go.

Hux turned, then, and hid his face entirely. Kylo was looking down at his boots, but knowing there would be no eyes, lips, nose to read an emotion from made a flicker of fear light up his spine. His fingers curled, and he tried to focus on his breathing.

In, hold, out, hold. Counting with words inside his head, the old trick of forcing the body into a cycle, into a rhythm. It had never worked when he was, when– 

 _No_. 

A shock of memory and he hissed the next breath in, heard the slide of bootheel across the durasteel floor. Saw it clip to its neighbour, the pre-turn tense of calves. 

 _He’d fucked up_.

Something as simple as breathing and he’d _fucked up_. Lost in a memory of a previous life, a person he was no longer. Coping strategies that hadn’t even worked _then_ , so most assuredly would not work _now_. Kylo’s head burrowed between his shoulderblades, and his face tilted up in anticipation of the rebuke, the reprimand.

“Stand. Undress.”  


Not what he expected, and again Kylo panicked. His eyes tracked towards the door and back, an unspoken: _what if_? Without the Force, he’d be even less able to tell if someone was coming. He could _not_ allow the staff to walk in and see him naked, collared, unmasked. Absolutely not.

“Sir, I–”  


“This is your final warning, Ren. Any more and I will send you back to your rooms as you are, right now.”  


No, no, no.

He could, as well. If he wanted to. It would be no shame to the General to dismiss a Knight - unmasked and wearing a collar - from this room. It would show he was in control, and it would… it…

“I’m sorry,” he said, and rose as quickly as he could.   


Hux went to sit at the head of the long table, and Kylo glanced and saw him pulling up feeds. He was… he was working? What the fuck? Indignation swam through his veins, and he pulled the cowl from his neck with angry hands. How dare Hux ignore him! How dare he do other things? He’d dragged him here, barked him into submission, slapped a collar on him without warning, asked him to bare himself, and he was _working_?

The cowl hit the desk. Hux did not look up. Kylo fumed, and undressed as angrily as he was able. His fingers shook over buttons and clasps, and he peeled back the layers from his too-pale skin with rapid intent. His pants hit the floor with extreme prejudice, and he stepped out - toes on boots to pluck his feet out - black socks hitting the floor. 

Bare, but for the socks and the tight stretch of black boxers, and Kylo tilted his head back proudly. The padlock swung from the off-centre point of his collar, and he ignored that, too. 

Hux did not look up. Hux continued to work. Kylo pushed his nails into his palms, trying to radiate _look at me_  through the air, aware all over again about his sudden lack of ability. How did people _manage_  like this? Stuck inside their own minds, unable to control the world at large, or to influence others? Had he the Force, would he turn off Hux’s screens? Scream _pay attention to me_  right into his head? Or would he still roll back and forth from heel to ball like this?

“I thought I said ‘undress’, Lord Ren. Was I unclear?”  


How the fuck could he tell Kylo still wasn’t nude? Was he watching him on those screens? Or could he just tell from the sounds? 

The Knight pulled off one sock, then the other. His long-toed feet felt for the floor between tugs of his black briefs. Off they went, too, and he balled them up and tossed them along the long incident table, watching them unfold like an obscene, black flower about a foot from Hux’s hands.

Hux did not move. Kylo put his hands on his hips, feeling his now-free cock treacherously perk upwards. It wasn’t fully hard, not by any means, but the sensation of being naked and collared definitely had it flushing fuller, curving a little away from his thighs. His stomach pulled in, and he made his stance both powerful and sure.

And waited. And waited. And wondered if he should threaten to walk out, anyway, just to see what…

…no. No. It was not worth being called on his bluff. He did not want anyone else to see him, not like this. He reached up for the collar, moving it so the heavy lock fell centrally between the ends of his collarbones, fingers sliding under to gauge the space, the depth, the sturdiness of construction. It was several millimetres thick, made of a warm metal alloy, circular and obviously forged of some devious material that dampened the Force. The padlock was too strong to be pulled off by bare hands, and he doubted he would be able to get out of this without either key or small blow torch. As he had neither, he was stuck like this.

Hux continued to ignore him, and Kylo sighed. He might not know Jedi calm (and definitely didn’t _want_ to, not now), but he could find some form of patience. Even if it wasn’t his own. 

Kylo paced quietly around to where Hux was sitting. He felt hurt and betrayal like bile in the back of his throat, but he dropped down to his knees. Legs behind him, he sat down on his calves and put the backs of his hands against his knees, facing the ceiling. He was not too close, but within reach, and he hoped this was what Hux wanted. Hux didn’t always tell him, he often made him guess and either rewarded or reprimanded his attempted intelligence. This time, he was given neither.

More silence. Fingers gliding over transparisteel. 

It was hell, but it was what he was given. His dick wilted under the lack of attention, and he let his eyes drift close as he reached out with his other senses, trying to plug the gap the Force had left behind. He could hear the rhythmic pattern of Hux’s breathing, the way he wasn’t quite smooth with it. There was a tiny click to his airway, and Kylo wondered if he should get that seen to or not. 

Hux was - for the most part - still. For the most part. Kylo found tiny little discrepancies that amused him. Two fingers on Hux’s left hand hit the table meatily, tapping out a non-song. One knee would occasionally jiggle. He would pause his breathing when he got to something intense, and then resume like nothing had happened. He memorised each of these things, and there was no call to, but he found it… made him know him deeper, all the same.

Made him human. Kylo hid a smile, and when Hux finally put down his tablet it came as a bit of a shock to the system. He glanced up, trying to keep the hope from his face.

“Do you think you have been good?” Hux asked.  


What was the right answer, Kylo wondered? Was it directed at his last act (or non-act), his attitude since entering the room, his behaviour since they became a… couple… if you could call them that… or since birth? Was honesty the best answer? Or…

“No.” No, in the Grand Scheme of Things, Kylo had not been ‘Good’. Even if you ignored morality entirely (which he couldn’t), his other actions could not be called ‘good’, either.  


Fingers moved to under his chin, pulling his face up to make eye-contact. Kylo resisted by lowering his gaze, but didn’t fight the tug to his head. Eventually, he couldn’t really keep looking down, and he met Hux’s eyes with trepidation.

“You’re beginning to learn. It will be a slow process. If you are honest with me, then we will work on it. If you are not…”  


Hux did not put a threat there. He did not need to. If Hux was willing to send him out in front of everyone dressed like this, or ignore him for hours on end for - for no really important reason - then the punishment for behaving truly badly didn’t bear thinking about. An involuntary whimper left his lips, when he realised how… how far into this he was. 

It wasn’t about sex, was it? They _did_ have sex, but this… this was something deeper. A cold wave of terror hit when he realised how exposed he currently was. Not because of his skin (though who last had seen him naked?), not because of his Force-less frame (though _no one else_ had seen him powerless), but because he was letting Hux into that place that he’d carved deep inside of himself. That place that only one person had dragged their nails over, rattling his cage, sending him _deeper_.

That - that - against his will. Against… against… 

Force-thoughts invading his very core, and Hux could command Kylo open that box that Snoke could only rattle using only words. The knowledge of it hit like a freighter coming out of hyperspace too hard, and he reeled on his knees, wavering under the hand. Hux could drive him this far down into himself with _words_ , and Kylo… Kylo…

“Please,” he begged, his voice soft, young, distant. Raw. Like him. Raw and bleeding. He wanted to cry, because this… he needed this.  


He needed this. He wanted it. He… he bled out under black, the liquid seeping into fabric unseen. He screamed inside the mask, the tones mutated into speech. No, no, no, no no no nonononononono–

 _Dangerous_. Dangerous. To be so known. To be so open. To be so - _exposed._ Sliced in two and his insides out for touching. Ripped open like a cadaver for inspection. His heart beating, there, thudding faster as a hand got closer to it and he—

— _justneededthecontroljustneededthecontroljustneededtoletgotoletgotobesafetobesafe_

The hand moved, grabbed his hair, pulled him backwards so far that he almost fell over. His hands went wide to steady himself, but did not fight against the one grabbing him. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

“ _Please!”_ he begged, softer, his face an open holo that he could no longer control. He was on the precipice, he was on the edge of something. Something big and deep and dark and nasty, and he was afraid, and he wanted it… but also not. He was _afraid_.  


This was **stupid**. Stupid. Stupid. It was just sex. Just…

…pulled closer, and he waddled on his knees, eyes wet from the pain in his scalp. His face was pulled forwards, and he fell onto his hands and shoved his face in Hux’s crotch.

Better. Easier. Simpler. This - this was an act of lust, and that was okay. A natural bodily response. A need to breed, somewhat broken in their respect. Like sneezing. Like hunger. You could respect the body’s cravings, and some of them you could deny or delay, but others you could not. 

His nose rubbed long lines up and down between his thighs, stroking over the rough, dark fabric of Hux’s slacks. He breathed in deep of him, the scent of musk and need. Hands finding a more stable position, he opened his mouth and wrapped dry lips around the bulge he found. Focus. Focus on the physical. Ignore the rest, aim for that drive, that urge. His tongue laved over the fabric, recoiling at the rough sensation and revelling in it in equal measure. He wasn’t sure how much Hux would let him do, but then:

“Use your hands. Get me out.”  


Okay. He could do that. Kylo braced his weight on his knees as best he could and reached up, fumbling awkwardly with zippers, flies, slits in cloth. He tugged Hux’s very nice cock out, pulling it and his balls through to the open air. Kylo had not seen another man aroused, though he’d seen plenty of glimpses of the softer kind of cock, but he wagered this one was a good one. It went nice and red at the tip, contrasting the soft, sunrise-gold hairs around the base. It curled just so slightly to the right, and he took great delight in running his tongue flatly over it. 

Easier. Safer. Better.

He wasn’t sure if he could use his hands again, so he put them back on the floor and went to town with his mouth instead. Long licks, pushing his cock up against his belly, using his chin near his balls to keep him pinned in place as he slavered a wet mess over the tip. He let his eyes close as he worked, focusing instead on the sensations under his tongue. Salt-hunger and the almost-not-there changes to Hux’s breathing. Over the sound of saliva he could hear them, and when he dragged his tongue over the tip, he knew Hux was ready. Lips parting, he pushed around the crown and started to work in earnest. 

It wasn’t the easiest of positions, of course, but the sting in his lower back and the pressure against his knees was grounding. Down and down and down, taking him in past comfort, past sense. Up and then down again, making sure to go deeper with each pass. His jaw was hurting, but he was determined to make this good, to make–

He choked out a sound of protest when he was pulled clear, minutely angry eyes up at him. He wanted to do it. He wanted to bring him off. His own desires - his own needs - were distant in the face of this. “Sir?”

“Up.”  


Kylo felt a tremor again. Why was it so hard to just… to just obey? Why did every time he heard a command have him ready to say _fuck you_ , no matter what the command was? 

He didn’t _want_ to be in control. But he also didn’t _want_ to give it up. Not… really. Or he would have. He would have let Snoke in, and he would have–

—would have… let Snoke… into that last little… box inside where…

“He can’t reach you. Not with this on.”  


Kylo recoiled, not sure how Hux had gotten so deep inside his head. If Hux even _did_ have the Force, he wouldn’t get past the collar, would he? And Hux didn’t. He was almost certain. He…

“…how… did you know?”  


“You’re not as subtle as you think you are, Kylo. Whenever you think about other Force-users, you get this look in your eyes. A shift in your mouth.”  


‘Other Force-users’. A polite way of saying both Snoke and the Jedi in one. “It’s… it’s not…” How did he explain?  


“He’s not here. It is just you and I. No one else.”  


His attention flickered to the door, then back up.

“They don’t need to know.”  


_But you might tell them all the same._

He hadn’t. So far. He hadn’t told anyone. No one knew that the Master of the Knights of Ren got off on kneeling to suck the General’s cock. No one knew that he howled like a Mynock when he was bent over a table and fucked mercilessly hard. No one knew that Kylo craved the fistfuls of hair nearly pulled from his scalp, or the soft kisses to the back of his neck at the same time. No one knew he was such a slut for punishment, or for the kind touches over scratched-red skin. 

_I am afraid. I am afraid. I am–_

_What is this?_

He had never dared ask. They’d gone from antagonism to - somehow - furiously fucking. From furiously fucking, to hands being shoved behind backs, or above heads. To Hux displaying more stamina and strength than Kylo had thought possible. To wordless touches in the aftermath, to not being shoved away when he inched in closer and sought an arm around him to ease him to sleep. 

He was sure he was reading into this more than Hux was, and that hurt most of all. That he was so - so lonely - so very alone that he could invent a whole array of emotions behind a tiny nod of a head, or a knuckle sliding over his cheek. So desperate for affection that he created his own, saw a relationship in an exchange of fluids and an understanding in a mutual silence.

This was insane.

The hand holding his hair slid a thumb behind his ear. He wanted to **SCREAM**. It was just a touch, just - just a - just–

“He can’t hurt you. This is only us,” Hux said, with a hint of something deeper in those words. Anger? Kylo couldn’t fully tell, not without the Force. “I can help you, but only if you let me.”  


“Why?”  


He questioned it before he could think not to. Why? Why would Hux help him? Why would he risk the potential wrath of the Leader? Why would he muzzle the Master of Ren, give him respite from himself, nullify his only use to the Order? Why? Did he get off on it? On seeing Kylo cry on his knees? On seeing how pathetic he was? How desperate for attention, how… incapable of functioning correctly?

“You need. I can give.”  


_Why, why, why, why, why?_

What did Hux have to gain? What was he agreeing to? What was Kylo offering in return? He’d suck the man’s cock anyway, without this fight for control. He’d happily take his dick in any hole, at any pace, at any time. He liked the reflected pleasure he could feel when he took him into his throat. He liked the sounds, the brief flash of gratitude. He liked feeling full. He liked feeling his body stuffed with cock. Liked the drag against his intimate parts, the places no one else would ever go. He didn’t need to indulge the Knight’s sicker cravings to get that. _Kylo would put out, all the same._

Maybe… maybe… “You… like… this?” 

Hux’s blue eyes rolled. “Would I do anything I didn’t like, Ren?”

No, Kylo supposed he wouldn’t. Maybe he liked it. Really liked it. Maybe he got off on seeing someone as powerful and closed-down as Kylo offering him everything. Maybe he felt his own, personal power increase when he gave an order there was no real compunction to follow. Maybe he liked to please the other way: controlling, instead of being controlled?

Kylo swayed, drunkenly, feeling things shift inside. 

Maybe they worked. Together.

“Tell me what you need, Kylo.”  


What did he need? He needed the past thirty years undoing, frankly. He needed not to be the child of his actual parents. He needed the whole war to be over. He needed fucking so hard he forgot all his troubles. He needed somewhere to feel… safe. He needed… he needed…

…to have been born someone else. Someone Forceless and legacyless. Someone unknown, unmemorable, insignificant. He needed to be a nothing man, because being _something_ had never worked out for him.

He needed not to be Kylo Ren. ~~And - equally - not Ben Organa-Solo.~~

“I don’t know.” He did. Oh, he did.   


“Don’t lie to me.”  


“I’m n–” How could he? How could he lie? Would he lie to everyone? He’d done so, so far. Lied to his parents. Lied to the Wookie. Lied to his uncle. Lied to the Leader. Lied to his Knights. Lied to **himself**. Lied to everyone.  


It was tiring, so very tiring. Hux didn’t bend, didn’t sway. 

 _Dangerous_.

“Don’t lie to me, Kylo. Or this is over. If you want this - truly - you’ll know that I’m here… for you.”  


For him? He couldn’t contain the laugh, and then - of a sudden - he was slammed into the desk. Hux moved like a whirlwind, and his face was pressed into the flat surface. One arm was between his shoulderblades, and he arched onto the balls of his feet to reduce the tension. “You’re _lying_ ,” he spat, trying to get purchase to fight back.

“I’m not.”  


“You’re lying - like all of them! You want to use me! Just like them!”  


Just like his mother and uncle. They’d wanted a good little Jedi soldier, devoid of feeling. Just like the Leader, who had wanted a different kind of soldier, one _with_ feeling, but still no freedom. They all wanted him for a reason, and when he wasn’t enough for them, when he failed, when–

The hand behind him twisted, and Kylo screamed in unblunted anguish. It hurt, and he couldn’t make it stop hurting. He fought, bucking in an effort to throw him, eyes wild and body flooding with panic. “Liar! Liar! **LIAR**.”

But the General simply put his other hand on the back of Kylo’s neck, standing pressed to his thighs, taking the terrified squirming. “I’m not lying. Have I ever lied to you?”

“How the fuck would I know?”  


“Haven’t you been inside of my head enough?”  


Kylo hissed. “I try not to.”

He felt Hux straighten a little. “Why not?”

“It’s… I try not to.”  


“…because you know I wouldn’t like it?”  


Kylo slumped, a very small nod. “Because it’s wrong.”

“Wrong to use your talents?”  


Another thrash, and Kylo felt panic rising higher. “Let me go!”

“Not until you tell me why you think it’s wrong.”  


“Because it is! Because people hate it! Because - because - I only do it when I have to, or I didn’t mean to! Damnit, Hux, just…” He stopped fighting, the anger giving way to cold horror. He did think it was wrong.   


No matter what the Leader had done, had said, had made of him: he _knew it was wrong_. 

 **He was no good as the Master of Ren.** There. He’d thought it. Here, where Snoke couldn’t hear, and Hux couldn’t ever. He wasn’t… Dark enough. He froze, utterly petrified. 

“It’s alright.”  


“N-no.”  


“It’s alright. It’s okay. You can stop fighting, here. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone.”  


“NNNNNNO.”  


Harder on his neck, and Kylo felt his whole chest alive with fluttering creatures trying to batter their way out. 

“Let mmmme go let mmmmmmmmmmmmmmme go Huxpleaseplease–”  


“Kylo. Kylo. I’m going to help you. I’m going to help you feel okay. You’re going to do as I say, and I will make the worry go. I will make it all go.”  


“You www-wwant to u-se me llllike theydonoletmego _please_!”  


Thumb and finger pinched his neck. “I want this. I want to give you this. I want to show you what obedience to me can be.”

“Wwwwhhhy?” He forced the question out, unable to turn his head.  


“Because I enjoy power, Kylo. And because you have a lot of it, and you want to give it up. You’re frustrated because you’ve never found a place to truly do that, though, have you? I see you looking. I see you needing.” A lean, hot words near his ear. “I can make you truly free.”  


Something in him _snapped_ , and Kylo dropped under him. The fight went out, and he nodded minutely. He did. He did want it. He wanted it more than anything. He didn’t want to be responsible any more… at least, not always. He wanted to be able to put his guard down. He wanted something to believe in, something to… worship. To adore. He wanted… something to love.

Something to _love him back_.

Would Hux love him, or just love this? Would he love him once he was broken, or would he lose interest? Was it even love, or was it just complicated sex? No. No, this couldn’t be that. No. He wasn’t in love, and frankly, the fact that he even thought about it, right now, was–

“Let me show you.”  


Kylo wanted it. So badly. He felt a kick in his gut, and he flopped. He kept getting almost there, then not quite. “Please. Please just… do it. Don’t let me think about it. Just… do it.”

They hadn’t discussed what was too much, but… Kylo kind of knew how he’d say as much. If he was capable of it. He wasn’t sure if he would ever manage to say ‘no’ when he needed to, but he had to… had to trust that Hux would…

Hands moved, and he felt his own cuffed behind his back. Where Hux had found the restraints he didn’t know, but he knew he couldn’t get out of them without the Force. Hux was stripping him of every bit of control by degrees, and when he heard a strip being torn from his cowl… it was already ragged, but he hadn’t given him the permission to do that. Or to bind the black fabric around his eyes, robbing him of his sight, too.

Naked, confused, blind, restrained. He was going mad - the giddy confusion skyrocketing inside - and his legs were kicked wider apart. 

Without his eyes, all he had were his ears to work out what was going on. He had no clue, no clue whatsoever. “Hux…”

“Trust me. Trust me.”  


How could he? He wanted to bite the table, but he couldn’t. “Help me,” he begged. He kept - every time he went down, every single time he clawed his way back up again in a moment. He was exhausted from the effort, wiped empty and. “ _Do it, please, Hux. Please just do it_.”

He was surprised when there was a sudden wrap of arm around his neck. He couldn’t resist it, not with his arms trapped between them. It pressed hard against his windpipe, making his head feel light and sparkly. His breathing felt and tasted of salty meat, and he blinked through glittery flares over his vision. A heavy weight against his back, and then a sudden, firm slap to his ass.

Bare-palmed. Hux had removed the glove. His fingers stayed in contact after the thud, and Kylo wondered if it was supposed to… another, another, another. Faster, harder, and the sting and the lack of air both drove his body higher. 

Nails cut in, and Kylo couldn’t work out if they’d drawn blood or if it just felt that way. He was a mess of tender sensation and nothing but sound and impact. He couldn’t see Hux, and he couldn’t feel him. He could barely hear him breathing over the smacks, and his own gulping breaths. He needed to ground, to touch him, but he - 

…adrift. Lost, in the blackness of the void, of the vacuum. Dropped out into free-fall, out of a ship, millennia from the nearest source of light. Lost, so lost, the rumble of a dying jetpack with the air that wouldn’t hold for long. Make it last, make the air last…

Somewhere in the slapping, it had turned to a finger at his hole. He parted his legs willingly, even though the touch was dry. It still felt good, there, like running a stylus over your lips or around the curve of your ear, but more sensitive. He felt the swirl and tug against his skin, and he realised he could do nothing but part his legs or clamp them shut. He had no real say, right now, and if he even tried to fight Hux off… if Hux didn’t want to stop, he wouldn’t be able to prevent it. Not really. A moan at the idea, and he felt himself slowly being bored open by that finger. It squirmed deeper into him, pushing to the first joint, and his cock and balls tightened in response. 

He hoped he wasn’t going to fuck him dry for real. That… would hurt too much, right?

There was a sound of a bottle snapping open, and the scent of fresh lube. Kylo had grown familiar with the smell, and when he felt the cold slick of it around the finger he parted his thighs more readily. Deeper in, and he slammed his head down. He needed more, so, so much more.

In. In. Two fingers. Three. Good. Kylo rocked onto them, hoping that Hux would make it hard, when he entered. 

But he didn’t. There was a weird moment when he felt a little finger against him, and then that slipped in, too. Four fingers, and Kylo turned his head in confusion. They flattened into a row, then curled together, and he felt his body allowing the intrusion with no small amount of bafflement.

Four. Okay. F– what?

“Hux?”  


“Lie still, or I might injure you.”  


Why the hell was Hux slipping his thumb in, too? More lube, more than he could remember. Slicking down his thighs, dripping to the floor. Kylo couldn’t deny it still felt good, but it was so, so much. So wide. So open. He felt like he was practically split in half, gaping and exposed. Why was Hux doing this?

“S-sir?”  


“I’m going to put my fist inside of you, boy. I’m going to remind you that your body belongs to me, and only me.”  


Hux’s words were like hot points of blaster-fire, but worse than that: his tone. He sounded… almost high with it, pleased and satisfied. He sounded like this was right for him, and Kylo knew it meant it was. Just like he craved to be subjugated, Hux needed subjugation. Kylo tried his best to accommodate the sensation, but it was… so much. So much. He’d never taken this amount of stretching before, and it took all of his focus not to scream. 

Wider. Wider. His body expanded, as if it was normal. Kylo had no choice but to accept it as he felt the hand clench up and push in, then out. He really was, wasn’t he? He was sliding his fist into his body? His stomach gurgled once, and then he slammed his forehead down in confused resignation. It… it felt…

“ _More, please, Sir_.”  


“You get what you’re given, boy.”  


“ _…yes, Sir, sorry, Sir_.”  


The hand was all, but Hux **did** move it faster. It slid up and in and then there was a moment when it felt too much and Kylo’s left foot tapped the floor and he yowled in confusion and then it kind of went allllll the way inside, past the flare, until the whole hand was in him. He could feel his hole tighten uselessly around Hux’s wrist, and… and…

“ _Oh_.”  


So full. So warm. It felt… good. It felt… close. He liked it when Hux’s cock was inside of him, but this… Hux couldn’t possibly find this as sexually satisfying, so the connection was more… pure? Maybe he was out of his head with it. Perhaps he’d gone insane from the loss of reality, but he felt… a gushing closeness, a happy feeling in his core. A swirl of fingers, brushing his prostate, and his eyes fluttered under the makeshift blindfold.

“Good?”  


“ _Yes_.”  


Yes. Yes. Oh, yes. So full, so stretched. So open and used. Spread wide and wanting. He rocked very subtly against him, moaning in appreciation. It wasn’t really sex, even if it was. It was so, so much more.

“ _Thank you_.”  


He felt… calmness spreading out so subtly, and he wasn’t sure how long Hux kept them like that. Thrusts deep into him, fingers playing with his hair, tugging at his collar. The fight was gone, and it was so surreal. It was like one moment he was convinced he had to claw, tooth and nail, just to survive. And now… now he was basking in this warm, spreading blanket. He was bleeding all the tension out of him into the desk, and turning into something pure, something clean and empty and hopeful.

“You look so good like that, boy. So good on my fist. You know you need me, don’t you?”  


“ _Yes, Sir_.”  


“You know you belong to me, don’t you?”  


“ _Yes, Sir_.”  


“You know you’re mine.”  


“ _All yours, Sir. All yours_.”  


More touches. He felt them, and felt the way his body responded, and wondered if this was what happiness was supposed to feel like? Was this peace, serenity? Was this that thing he’d never known how to find?

“I’m going to remove my hand from you, now. And then I’m going to sit down. You will come to my chair, and you will kneel astride my thighs. Do you understand?”  


His legs weren’t going to like it, but he had to do as Sir said. Kylo nodded, mutely.

“Say it.”  


“ _Yes, Sir_.”  


“Good boy.”   


The praise almost made up for the sudden withdrawing. Even warned, he hated it. Hated the momentary parting, hated feeling himself spread and empty and Hux no longer touching him. He wanted to cry, but he was supposed to be good.

He cried all the same.

Hux moved, and Kylo felt for the floor with his feet. He tested his weight a few times before he managed to take it (shocks up his calves, lightning in his thighs, a snake of poison up his spine) and he hobbled with his hands bound to get into place. He nearly fell into Hux, and only hands on his shoulder and waist gave him the balance he needed.

A hand under his jaw again, curled around his throat, above the collar. No pressure, but a threat. A promise. His wet eyes found Hux’s, even through the blindfold. Found the place where they would be, demanded answers where Hux could never see. _Do you love me? Am I insane? Is this just a power game to you, when it’s all I ever feel for me?_

“Trust me, boy.”  


I want to. I want to. I want to.

Soft lips over his own, prising a half-smile and tasting his tongue. Kylo could do nothing but try to stay still as Hux took his mouth slowly, licking over his doubts and his hopes and turning them all to give-take, push-pull. 

Both hands over his waist, down, over the swell and under his cheeks. He rose up obediently, feeling the sudden thickness between his legs. He was guided back down, and they rocked like that for a moment. Hux’s cock was hard and sure, and Kylo tried to make it good for him. Tried, tried so hard. 

“Master,” he whispered. “ _Master_.”   


“Do you trust me, yet?”  


No, yes, no, yes, no. He wanted to. He wanted to. “ _What if it means… more to me than it does to… to you?”_ He hated himself for saying it, shoved his head right under Hux’s jaw. “…nomatternomatter, pleaseSirpl–”

A finger over his lips silenced him. “You, and only you, Kylo. You. Only you.”

Until he was broken? Until he was nothing? Until something better? He shoved his ass backwards, trying to grind into him, and then there was the pressure at his throat again.

“You don’t need to do that.”  


“S-sir!”  


“You don’t _need to do that, Kylo_. I’m in control. I will take you when I’m ready.”  


“B-b-but…”  


Fingers over his lips, stroking softly. “You. You are precious. You are beautiful and strong, and I control you. You are fierce and wild, and you need a place to know who you _truly_ are. Let me be that for you.”

“You… you don’t mean it.”  


“I do. I mean it. And I will show you every day, if I have to. I will pull and pry at you until you are broken open, and then: _I will put you back together again_.”  


There was such a fierceness in that tone, then. A tenderness and a ferocity combined, emotion finally leaking into his tone. Kylo didn’t need the Force, didn’t need to see to know that Hux _meant that_. He knew, and he felt the last thing _snap_ inside. Boneless, he dropped against him. He sobbed harder, sobbed with years of frustration. Sobbed with terror of the Dark, sobbed like the boy who’d been broken in two. Sobbed, and felt the gentle fingers on his neck, the kisses to his temple. 

Hux stroked him, and it didn’t matter that his ass was sore. That his legs were shaking. That his asshole was pummelled wide. That his cock kept popping up and down like it didn’t know whether it was into this or not. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t see, or feel, or escape. All that mattered was the man below and around him, the sound of his breathing and the little click in his airway. The heat from his body, the sound of his heart. He cried, and cried, and then the crying passed and he was tired.

So tired.

Hux moved, then. Guided him up, and down. Seated Kylo’s abused hole around him. The Knight tried his best to clench around him, to give him a good ride, but he was so exhausted and used up that he could barely do a thing.

“D-don’t… feel… bad?” he asked, his voice distant and wavery even to his own ears.  


“Feel just right to me,” Hux replied. “Feel like you’re broken in, but like you broke in to make room for me.”  


Not just his body, he thought. There was so much of him that was wider than it should be, but Hux apparently didn’t care. He couldn’t make it good, couldn’t control their movements, lost instead to swaying with the other’s movements. It was soft and slick and oh so raw, but it felt nice all the same. Felt like they were… like… _lovemaking,_ though that was…

Forbidden. Taboo. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be.

“I–” He had to say it, and he found the voice that tried was younger, more raw, more hurt. “Hux, Sir, I–”  


“I know.”  


No. No. He couldn’t just. He:

“I _know_ ,” Hux said, again. “Me too.”  


Kylo was startled by the hand on his cock, the hand that moved so fast and certain, then. The hand that pulled him over the edge to a panting, boneless mess. He came against Hux’s clothed belly, moaning so very quietly as he knew Hux wasn’t done with him, not yet.

The General stood, and Kylo’s thighs hit the table. Hand on his dick, the other behind his neck. Forehead to forehead, and Kylo felt the man move harder, faster, more ragged.

“ _Please_ ,” he begged, right before Hux’s climax hit.  


“ **Always** ,” Hux promised, and slammed home. Shudders that rocked them both, and Kylo tried to make sure nothing slid out. He wanted it in him, wanted it to stay in him. Wanted to feel full and full of love like he did. Wanted… him.  


Kisses over his neck, over his jaw, fingers in his hair. Joined together, and Kylo was floating on cloud nine. His body worn to the bone, his heart wrung dry. Hux fell back into the chair, taking Kylo with him, and Kylo let him. Curled into him, curled against him, felt him there. Warm. Sure. Safe.

Safe.

Hands that uncuffed his, but his own fell to his sides uselessly. He couldn’t even wrap them around Hux, just lie like he was half asleep. His body was a sine-wave of sensation, and his attention dragged behind touches like the afterglow behind a bright light. Slow, slow caresses and words, and his feet twitched and jumped from time to time.

“H-x?”  


“Shhh.”  


“H-xxx…”   


“It’s okay. You’re safe, Kylo. You’re safe. I’ve got you. I’ve got you, and I’m not letting go.”  


It was hours before he could speak again, or it felt like it. Time went wonky, and he shuddered in his breath. He was so tired, so very tired. Endorphins and adrenaline warring through his body, tempered by kisses to his temple, by murmurs of security.

“…-nkyou…”  


“You don’t need to thank me. It’s what you deserve, my boy.”  


No. Didn’t. Didn’t. But if Hux thought he did…

He wrapped in tighter, as tight as his exhausted limbs would allow. “…’ve you.”

“I’m going to take care of you, Kylo. I’m going to make sure you never feel that bad again if I can help it. You’re mine, now. And I take care of my property, my things.”  


Yes. Yes. He could live with that. To belong to someone who made him feel so good, instead of to one who didn’t care how much he hurt.

Kylo could live with that.

Kylo could live _for_ that.

He drifted, further and further from his worries, further and further into sleep. When it finally came, there wasn’t a single nightmare in sight. 


End file.
